


Gaze

by dreamsofolicity



Series: Olicity Hiatus Fics [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mild Language, OHFAT, Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon, Olicity Hiatus fic, s1 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofolicity/pseuds/dreamsofolicity
Summary: Instead of taking five hostages to draw out the Hood, the Dark Archer just takes one. Felicity Smoak.Season 1 AU - S01E09 "Year's End"





	Gaze

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fic for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon. The prompt is eye contact.
> 
> The fic turned out way longer than I originally planned so I apologize if the length is somewhat intimidating. It was not my intention. This is very divergent in that Oliver isn't hung up on Laurel so that changes things.
> 
> This is unbeta'd so it may not be perfect.
> 
> The response to my first hiatus fic was absolutely unexpected and amazing all at once. Thank you so much. I'm still not super confident in my writing but all of you definitely gave me boost that I needed to write another.

The warehouse was frigid. Felicity couldn’t help but shiver as she sat on the metal chair, her legs tied together. There was a piece of paper in her hands, the printed words taunting her as she closed her eyes against the panic that threatened to drive her into hysterics. Now wasn’t the time to panic, no matter how much she wanted to. Her face was already wet with tears and she was certain that a bruise was forming on her cheek where she’d been struck. There was definitely a cut on her forehead where she’d hit her head on the kitchen counter in her apartment during the struggle. At least Felicity could say that she fought back, not that it mattered much right now.

“Read it,” the altered voice demanded out of the shadows.

She flinched at the sound before looking at the camera that was focused directly onto her. Then her eyes flickered down to the paper as she held it up to the dim light.

“Happy holidays, Starling City,” she said, hating how her voice wavered. “For the past three months, this city has been laid siege by a vigilante. But the police have been unable to bring him to justice because they lack the will to do what justice demands.”

The next words made her breath catch in her throat and she shuddered violently. Instead of looking at the camera, she glanced over at the archer in his black garb. He lifted his bow slightly, pointing the arrow directly at her heart. Turning her head back to the camera, she continued relaying the message.

“I will kill this hostage in one hour in the name of this vigilante unless he surrenders himself to my authority,” Felicity said, fresh tears burning her eyes as she finished relaying the message.

Her eyes lifted again, looking directly into the camera. The vigilante was watching. That was the point of all this. Felicity only hoped that he didn’t write her off as yet another victim of this increasingly violent city. It would be nice if he beat the bad guy _before_ she had the chance to become a statistic. When the archer reached out and switched off the camera, her shoulders slumped and something like a sob escaped from her mouth.

“One hour,” he repeated the threat that he made her announce.

Felicity winced when he yanked the paper from her hands, tossing it away. Then her arms were pulled around the back of the chair and bound at the wrists by thin wire that dug painfully into her skin.

“Do you think that he’ll come for you? A simple IT girl?” he said almost mockingly.

She bit down on her lip, looking up at his covered face. There was an easy answer to his question. If he didn’t think that the vigilante would come for her, why capture her at all? To turn public opinion against the Hood? The city was already divided when it came to him.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Felicity finally said, her voice hitching only slightly. “But he’ll definitely come for you.”

It was a bold declaration. She hoped that she was right. While Felicity didn’t spend too much time tracking the activities of the vigilante, she was certain that this was exactly the type of person he’d come after. The archer didn’t say a word, seemingly disappearing into the shadows as she heard the distant sounds of sirens approaching. Closing her eyes, she tried not to focus on the situation she was currently in. Her mind immediately went to problem-solving mode. In this case, she really had no way of escaping from this chair. And if the dangerous wiring she saw near the door earlier was any indication, even if she _could_ get out of the chair, the entire building might be rigged to blow. So not only was she trapped inside, no one could come in through any doors either. Which meant that the vigilante was probably the only person who could get her out of this and he only had about fifty-eight minutes left to do so.

Since that particular train of thought was offering no solutions, Felicity let herself follow an entirely different thread. The arrow that was pointed at her heart near minutes ago looked exactly like the one that she’d held in the middle of her cubicle at Queen Consolidated. The arrow that Oliver Queen provided, citing a friend’s obsession with archery. Felicity knew that his excuses were bullshit but it didn’t really occur to her that they were covering something like this. Even though she would normally stop herself from coming up with conspiracy theories, there was a good chance that she was about to die. So really there was no harm in wondering how Oliver Queen really spent his nights.

“SCPD,” someone yelled over a speaker from outside, pulling her from her thoughts. “We have the building surrounded. Release the hostage and come out with your hands up.”

Felicity briefly wondered if they really thought that would work. Her hope for rescue faded even more, somehow, and she resigned herself to dying right here in this dirty warehouse. At least it would be dramatic. But her mother…Felicity cut herself off before she could go down that road. She might not have been close with Donna Smoak, and there might have been several valid reasons for that, but Felicity didn’t want to start airing out her regrets right now. That felt way too close to giving up.

She didn’t know how much time passed as she listened to the chatter of police outside of the building. Felicity expected to see the Dark Archer at some point, prowling in the shadows as he waited for the fight that he wanted so much. But he never reappeared, giving her the vain hope that he might have given up. Then a window crashed in behind her and glass rained down, followed by the light thud of someone landing on their feet. For a few long moments, the only sound in the warehouse was her heavy breathing. Felicity stared straight ahead without looking over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know what she’d see. Then he spoke, jarring her from her thoughts.

“Where is he?”

His voice was altered as well, sounding too much like the other archer to relax her.

“I don’t know,” Felicity said, amazed that she could actually form coherent sentences. “I haven’t seen him since he tied me up which, by the way, is incredibly painful so can you please-”

The sound of a switch blade being unsheathed reached her ears, effectively cutting off the beginning of a long babble, and she jumped at the feeling of cool metal against the skin of her raw wrists. Then her ties were cut away and her hands were free. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her stiffen as she watched him come around to cut the cord from her ankles. The hood was in place, covering his face as he kept his head ducked. The green leather that he wore fit his form perfectly and it was tempting to congratulate him for it. Felicity felt grateful that she was able to keep her lips sealed shut.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts.

Felicity tensed up again.

“Tell me that you’re smarter than this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is a trap, you know that. He wants you dead.”

He didn’t answer, cutting the cord away. Before he could straighten up, Felicity’s hand shot out to his arm, gripping tightly. The leather beneath her palm was warm to the touch. She was barely aware of her actions, her heart pounding in her chest as she silently implored him to look up. When his head slowly lifted, her breath came out in a rush at the sight of a strong, scruff-covered jaw, a symmetrical nose, and shadowed eyes surrounded by grease paint. Before she could say a single word, he was up on his feet and holding a hand out to her.

“Follow me.”

Felicity hesitated before sliding her hand into his gloved one, briefly appreciating just how large it was compared to her own. Then he was pulling her up to stand, tugging her behind him as he wound through the maze of hallways and rooms in the warehouse. His footsteps were silent while her heels clicked loudly on the floor. Apparently he didn’t care about how much noise she was making. It seemed like he wanted to draw the Dark Archer just as much. Felicity let him lead her without speaking, though her mind was moving at a mile a minute. When they stopped, Felicity nearly smacked into his back as he pointed her towards the stairs.

“Get up to the roof.”

She didn’t make a move to climb them, her eyes fixed on him.

“What about…”

“I’ll handle him,” he cut her off, his voice gruff and demanding.

Felicity felt a rush of frustration over the fact that he didn’t even let her finish her sentence. Because she definitely was not about to say anything about the Dark Archer.

“I know how he traced me,” Felicity said, her voice stronger than before. “Maybe if you’d warned me that I was looking into a shipment of arrows for a murderer, I could have covered my tracks a little better.”

His head snapped around to her and she finally caught sight of the eyes that he tried so hard to hide. They fixed on her and everything else seemed to stop. She had her final confirmation. There was no mistaking that blue. Oliver Queen was the vigilante. Everything about him made sense and Felicity felt like an idiot for not realizing it way before now. The bullet-ridden laptop should have been enough proof but her mind refused to accept the evidence.

“Felicity,” he said, her name sounding wrong in his disguised voice.

Oliver didn’t say anything else, his gaze fixed on hers as they stared each other for several long moments. In his eyes, she saw the truth of him. She saw the man that existed between his two identities. The one who struggled to balance every aspect of both of his lives. The one who had experienced hell and come back with his heart still beating in his chest. More than anything, Felicity felt the urge to validate him. She wasn’t sure which part of him she wanted to speak to. The reformed billionaire or the haunted vigilante. As she held his gaze, unwavering, Felicity could see behind the mask of both Oliver Queen and the vigilante. It both scared and thrilled her.

Understanding passed between them in the midst of it all and Felicity knew that she’d unintentionally lied when she spoke earlier. There was no “maybe, maybe not” when it came to the Hood. Because the Hood was Oliver Queen and some part of her inexplicably knew that he was a good man in spite of the many bodies he’d left in his wake. He was always going to come for her. And now he needed her to leave so that he could find the Dark Archer. His eyes practically begged her to walk away so that he could do this. Felicity nodded, understanding him quite clearly.

“I’m not going to thank you until we’re both far away from this damn warehouse so you’d better make it out,” she said quietly before wincing at her words. “Okay that sounded bad. Not that I’m not grateful but I will certainly be less so if you die. So don’t do it. Because boy do I have an earful for you when we’re both out of this mess.”

Another moment passed as she waited, still staring into his eyes. His face was blank but there was a veritable storm of emotions in his eyes. When Oliver nodded, she took a deep breath and turned away, her hand gripping the banister tightly as she hurried up the stairs and out onto the roof. Cool wind whipped around her, sending her hair flying as she lifted her head. A helicopter was hovering overhead, its spotlight shining directly onto her. It didn’t take long for a man to drop from the open door, a rope secured at his belt. She stepped away from him as he landed, already knowing his intent. They weren’t getting off of this roof any other way, with all of the explosives set to blow.

“Miss Smoak?” the man yelled at her over the helicopter.

His arm was outstretched towards her. Felicity looked away from him, her eyes falling on the door she’d left open behind her.

“We have to go now, ma’am,” the man shouted, impatience in her voice. “My job is to get you out of here. Don’t get me in any trouble here.”

She turned back to him, taking a reluctant step closer. As he wrapped her securely in his embrace and clipped a strap around her waist to connect them, Felicity closed her eyes and simply waited for it to be over. A shriek involuntarily slipped out of her mouth as they were hoisted into the air, his arms secured tightly around her. It wasn’t until she found herself slumping in a seat that she opened her eyes and realized that they were safely in the helicopter as it flew away.

“Where are you taking me?” Felicity asked no one in particular.

“The hospital,” someone answered.

Felicity started to protest but her head gave a particularly painful throb as she glanced down at her raw, bleeding wrists. Closing her mouth, she leaned back against the seat and tried to breathe, focusing on the fact that she was alive and Oliver Queen was the one who saved her. Though she started to think that he was possibly the worst liar she’d ever come across, Felicity couldn’t help but give him credit for having an entire city fooled, including the cops _and_ his own family. But a heavy feeling settled in her stomach as she remembered what exactly he was doing at the moment. Sure he’d taken down some heavy hitters but Felicity had the feeling that this Dark Archer was more dangerous than all of them. She could only hope that Oliver made it out intact, if only so that she could take him to task for tricking her into being an accessory to his nightly activities, and not in a sexy way. Of course she wouldn’t say it like that, no matter how good that green leather looked on him.

* * *

A full hour and a half passed before Felicity heard commotion outside of her room. The hospital had insisted on admitting her. She assumed that it was because of the whole hostage thing. There was a police officer posted at her door. She couldn’t help but feel like he was keeping her in as much as keeping anyone else out and she hated it. Her wrists and ankles were bandaged, as well as the cut on her forehead. There was nothing to help the bruise on her cheek but some mild pain pills. Though she was given instructions to rest, she slipped out of the bed and made her way to the door.

“What’s going on?” Felicity asked the police officer.

If he was going to stand there, he might as well make himself useful.

“Trust fund kid crashed his motorcycle,” he said with a shrug.

Felicity had seen the paparazzi photos of Oliver all around Starling City on a bike. If he needed a cover story for a visit to the hospital, that would be the perfect one. Felicity worried at her lip, wondering just how bad of a shape he was in. Before she could do anything, a stressed-looking detective approached from the opposite end of the hallway and the officer next to her stood up a little straighter.

“Miss Smoak,” the new man said, stepping into the doorway.

Felicity took a step back, nodding once.

“Detective Lance,” he introduced himself not unkindly. “You okay to give your statement?”

It was polite of him to ask but Felicity knew if she refused, she’d have to go to the police station eventually _and_ there was a good chance that the officer might stay posted at her door all night. She just wanted to get it over with. With a nod, she crossed the room back to the uncomfortable bed and pulled the blankets over her legs.

“We canvassed your apartment. The archer came through the window in your bedroom,” he told her, sitting in a chair by the bed.

“I’ve always had a problem getting it to lock right,” Felicity said.

“Did he say anything to you before he took you?” Detective Lance asked, pulling out a notepad.

She shook her head, remembering how his dark form took on a solid shape in the doorway of her kitchen mere moments after she poured out a glass of wine for herself. Gritting her teeth, she remembered that the glass ended up shattering on the ground when he rushed at her. That was good, now wasted wine.

“He just took me,” she said.

“You didn’t go without a fight.”

He almost sounded approving and it was easy to see him as a father in that moment.

“Instinct took over,” Felicity shrugged.

Not that it did her any good. One hit to the face and she was on the ground.

“I remember a needle,” she said, her hand fluttering up to her throat. “Everything went dark after that. When I woke up, I was in the warehouse and he was telling me to read the note.”

“He didn’t do anything to suggest his identity?” Lance asked.

Felicity shook her head.

“He left me alone when I finished reading it and I didn’t see him again after that. I was just bait.”

“Why you?” he said.

The answer almost sounded accusing and Felicity tried to fight the part of her that went on the defensive.

“Because he’s a crazy man who needed to draw the Hood out?” she said.

“The Hood,” Lance repeated with a nod. “The guy in black seemed pretty confident that he’d come for you. Any reason for that?”

“Are you asking if I know the vigilante?” Felicity asked bluntly.

“He did come for you.”

“I’m just an IT girl, Detective Lance,” she said, feeling more tired than anything at this point. “I don’t know why the Dark Archer took me and I definitely don’t know why the Hood saved me. All I want to do is go home and forget this ever happened.”

The words rolled off her tongue easier than she could have imagined. Usually Felicity was a terrible liar. Apparently when it came to Starling City’s resident vigilante, protecting his identity was easy. Lance looked convinced, nodding once as he flipped the page on the pad where he’d been scribbling details.

“Tell me everything you remember about the Hood.”

Felicity sighed, settling back against her pillows as she recounted almost everything leading up to her walking out onto that roof. When she finished with what happened on the roof, Detective Lance closed the pad with a nod.

“And you didn’t see under the hood?” he asked.

“Which one?” Felicity said.

“The green one.”

She shook her head, picking unconsciously at the bandage around her right wrist. Lance’s sharp eyes caught the motion and narrowed slightly.

“I find that hard to believe,” he said, nodding at her nervous motion.

Felicity knew that he was using her nervous tick as a tell. She’d heard rumors about how casino owners caught cheaters in the middle of a lie. When she straightened her shoulders, dropped her hands, and met the detective’s gaze head-on, he looked only slightly surprised.

“I’ve been through a lot tonight. Forgive me if my nerves are a little shot,” Felicity said.

He didn’t quite look convinced but he stood up nonetheless.

“Call me if you think of anything else,” Lance said, holding one of his business cards out to her.

Felicity took it, holding it in both hands to keep them from doing anything else that may give her away. Her eyes tracked him across the room as he left. When he hesitated at the door, she prepared herself to be called out on her lies. Instead, he turned and looked at her with an almost sympathetic look on his face.

“He’s not a hero, Miss Smoak,” he said.

“All due respect, Detective, but no one has any idea who or what he is,” Felicity replied without missing a beat. “Except for a guy with really good aim, I guess. And nice lips. Not that you care about his lips. I doubt you spend too much time thinking about the mouth of the guy you’re trying to capture, unless that helps you find him. But I can’t see how it would help so I’ll just stop now.”

Detective Lance looked at her strangely and she bit down a miserable groan, wishing for once that her brain to mouth filter would actually work.

“The hood doesn’t cover everything,” Felicity said weakly.

With a shake of his head, Quentin Lance left her to her embarrassment. To be fair, she had noticed the state of Oliver Queen’s lips way before she found out that he liked to wear leather. That didn’t make it sound any better, much to her chagrin. A nurse came in just after a long thirty minutes to inform her that the doctor was signing her release papers. Felicity didn’t bother putting her shoes back in, choosing to hold them instead as she followed the nurse out of the room with the police officer not far behind. As they reached the elevator, she happened to glance over her shoulder and saw the large form of Oliver’s bodyguard, John Diggle, standing outside of a room with his hands folded in front of him. He met her eyes knowingly, nodding once. Whatever it was he was trying to convey, Felicity understood immediately. At least she knew that Oliver was alive.

The cop gave her a ride home, informing her that he would be on her house all night to make sure that nothing exciting happened. Felicity didn’t know if they were concerned that the Dark Archer would show up or if they were hoping that the green one would make an appearance. By the time she made it inside of her door, sunlight was peeking out over the horizon. There wasn’t much of a mess in her apartment, other than the broken glass and wine that had turned into a sticky mess on her floor. Picking up her phone, she saw at least three dozen messages from concerned friends and fellow employees, as well as a voicemail that informed her that she could start her holiday vacation early due to her ordeal.

Felicity didn’t respond to any of it, tossing her phone back on the counter before grabbing a towel to clean up the mess on the floor. A few minutes later, she found herself sitting on the floor of her kitchen with her back against the cabinets. Her apartment was eerily silent, making her skin crawl. When she closed her eyes, she could see the Dark Archer launching towards her in this very room. Felicity’s hands gripped her knees tightly as she tried to breathe through the panic that threatened to take over. Forcing her eyes open, she felt one tear slipping down her cheek and quickly wiped it away, pushing herself to stand.

“Happy Hanukkah to me,” she mumbled, shuffling down the hallway to her bedroom.

She didn’t even bother to look at the broken lock on her window, falling face-first onto the rumpled blankets of the bed she’d forgotten to make the day before. Luckily it didn’t take long for sleep to claim her. Felicity didn’t know if she could handle reality for a second longer.

* * *

The next few days were spent largely alone. Felicity eventually answered the concerned messages, including a few to her mother that carefully edged around the suggestion that they spend the holidays together. Rather than spend time thinking and rethinking everything, including both the green and black archers _and_ the fact that Walter Steele had disappeared, she busied herself with installing a new security system that she somewhat designed herself. Felicity was understandably jumpy whenever she heard so much as a creak in her house so she needed some level of comfort. The broken lock on her window, however, wasn’t an easy fix. Maintenance was historically unreliable in her building and Felicity herself was nearly hopeless with those kinds of tools.

It wasn’t until four days after the entire unpleasant experience that she woke up in the middle of the night with a strange feeling in her gut. Felicity knew that she was being watched. Kicking off her blankets, she approached the window and peered out warily. A scream rose in her throat at the sight of a dark shape on her fire escape but quickly died when the streetlight illuminated the sleeve of a brown leather jacket. Leaning forward, she hesitantly pushed her window open and then stepped back, her hand shooting out to grab her phone in case she was really wrong about her midnight visitor. To both her relief and annoyance, it was Oliver who climbed through her window carefully, a groan slipping out of his mouth when he twisted the wrong way. His hand pressed to his ribs lightly when he righted himself, lifting his head to meet her eyes.

“Most people use the door,” Felicity said, her voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

“I didn’t want anyone to see me,” Oliver replied, his voice tight.

She reached out, switching on the lamp that was on her nightstand before grabbing her glasses so that she could actually see. The first thing that she noticed was the nasty bruise on his forehead. Her own bruises still stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin but they weren’t nearly as bad as the cuts on her wrists and forehead. Oliver took in her own injuries with narrowed eyes.

“Showing up on my balcony in the middle of the night and scaring me half to death was your best plan?” she asked.

“I wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

Felicity sank her teeth into her lower lip to keep a flood of words from escaping. Did he mean okay physically? Because she was alive and mostly intact. Emotionally? Felicity was somewhat of a wreck because, shockingly, isolating herself in the aftermath of a kidnapping wasn’t the best idea. Mentally? Her mind had been working overtime for days trying to reconcile all of the new information with what she already knew. Did he want to know about the nightmares? Or about how every single noise she heard set her heart racing in her chest?

“I’m fine,” Felicity settled, though it was far from the truth.

Oliver didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say anything to contradict her. She couldn’t help but notice how he favored his right side. Any idiot would be able to figure out that he was more hurt than he was letting on.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

Oliver didn’t say anything but he did move slowly, sinking down to sit on her bed. In any other situation, Felicity might have made some comment about asking first but she suspected that he could not stand for another moment.

“Climbing up the fire escape probably didn’t do you any favors,” she sighed, moving closer to him.

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Then why did you? If I was going to tell anyone your secret, I would have done it already. You don’t have to show up and threaten me.”

The slightest hint of hurt crossed his face and gave her pause as she briefly regretted the accusation.

“I told myself that I wouldn’t come,” he said.

“Why?” Felicity asked, sitting down beside him on the bed. “And if you say some noble bullshit about keeping your distance because you got me in trouble, I swear…”

Oliver gave her a look and she knew that’s exactly what she was thinking.

“He was determined to draw you out. If it wasn’t me, it was going to be someone else. That’s not on you,” Felicity said.

“That doesn’t make it better,” he snarled, his anger clearly focused on himself.

She reached out, flicking his ear. His surprised gaze snapped to her and Felicity returned it with no hesitation.

“If you keep feeling sorry for yourself, I’m not going to thank you for saving my life,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly at his look of disbelief. “I owe you an earful, remember?”

“I don’t want you to thank me. I wanted to apologi-”

The rest of his sentence was cut off by her hand over his mouth. Felicity could see the annoyance brewing in his eyes and knew that no one probably dared to handle either Oliver Queen or the Hood like this. It might have convinced someone else to remove their hand and accept his apology without complaint but clearly he didn’t realize exactly who he was dealing with. Because he got Felicity Smoak involved in this and he had to deal with the repercussions of that.

“You saved my life,” Felicity said slowly, making sure to enunciate every word so that he couldn’t just ignore him. “Nothing else matters.”

Oliver’s hand lifted, slowly and gently pulling her own hand away from his mouth. He made sure to avoid the bandage that was still wrapped around her sore wrist.

“If it wasn’t for me, your life wouldn’t need saving. I should have known better than to drag you into this. Like you said, he wouldn’t have traced you if it wasn’t for me.”

Felicity let out a heavy sigh, snatching her hand away from him.

“You completely missed the point of me telling you that,” she said, fuming at his hardheadedness. “I was saying that you should have been more honest with me because if I had known what I was really looking for, I could have protected myself better.”

“I should have protected you by not involving you in this in the first place,” Oliver said.

Felicity held up her finger, willing him to stop speaking.

“Putting aside the fact that you did save me from an explosive-laden building, I am not someone that generally needs to be rescued. Do you really think that if you had come to me as... _him_ … and told me the truth about what I was researching, I would have said no?”

Oliver didn’t say anything.

“I might have said a lot of things, including but not limited to inappropriate comments about green leather. I might have even mentioned that you shouldn’t put an arrow in the chest of whomever I was researching. But saying no? I don’t think I could have done that, reservations be damned.”

His face tightened at the mention of the violent way he dealt with his targets but he still remained silent, staring at her wall with a subdued determination in his gaze. Felicity didn’t like the look of it.

“You let Diggle in,” she reminded him.

“He has training,” Oliver said shortly.

“So do I,” Felicity said without missing a beat. “It’s not combat training and I’d probably drop a gun before I fire it. I definitely don’t have the upper body strength to use a bow and arrow. But you took advantage of my skills before, without actually telling me what you were doing. I think that the least you can do is let me decide this time around.”

Oliver looked at her, a heavy wariness in his gaze. He wanted to refuse, she knew that. What happened with the Dark Archer was somewhat beyond his control. Considering the fact that there was still a manhunt going on for whoever it was and the state that Oliver was in, Felicity assumed that he lost the fight. There was no telling what was going on inside of his head. But she wasn’t cowed by the blaze of emotions in his eyes. She was reminded of what she saw that night.

“The way I see it, you have a few weeks before you can fight a teddy bear, much less a dangerous criminal.”

Oliver let out a scoff but didn’t argue. Felicity had the suspicion that he couldn’t even lift his arms above his head, much less handle a bow and arrow.

“Take that time, heal up, and then we can talk again,” she suggested with the possibly vain hope that a few weeks of thinking might convince him that he should let her have the say here.

When his head turned towards the window, Felicity couldn’t help but take notice of the slump of his shoulders. It pained her to see the weight of the world there, even though he’d taken it on.

“I should go,” Oliver said before she could blurt out anything about alleviating his burden.

“Do me a favor?” Felicity asked, unwilling to watch him climb out of her window again. “Use the front door. No one will see you.”

He let out a huff and as he stood, she could have sworn that the corner of his mouth was turned up ever-so-slightly.

“You’re safe, Felicity,” he said, hovering at her door. “No matter what, I’m going to make sure that you’re protected.”

Before she could ask what that meant, he was gone. Even in his injured state, he managed to cover the sound of his footsteps. She barely heard the sound of her front door closing. Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him on that island.

* * *

If Felicity thought that Oliver would use the next few weeks to rest up and think over her offer, she was somewhat wrong. She didn’t expect to see him at all so her surprise was evident when he showed up at her door two days later just as she was sipping at her first cup of coffee. It was strange, seeing him in good light after their last few meetings. The bruise on his face was yellowing slightly and there was a clearer look in his eyes. Along with the paper bag of what was unmistakably some sort of breakfast food, he held a plastic sack from the hardware store around the corner.

“What is this?” Felicity asked.

“The lock on your window is broken,” Oliver said simply.

She stepped aside, the words somehow enough for her to let him in.

“Nice cupcakes,” he deadpanned as he passed.

Felicity flushed as she remembered the printed pajama pants she wore with a simple light blue camisole.

“I would have figured out the lock eventually,” she said, closing her door and following him back into the kitchen.

He still moved carefully but she was glad to see that he seemed to be hurting less.

“That’s a risk that neither of us should be willing to take,” Oliver said, setting the paper bag down on the counter.

When he pulled out several different kinds of bagels, she was tempted to hug him. Her kitchen was in desperate need of a grocery run and she was about to settle for some unbuttered toast just to fill her stomach.

“Tell me you brought cream cheese.”

Oliver lifted a container from the bag with a slight smile and she let out a happy sigh, crossing the room to him.

“My hero,” Felicity said, grinning up at him before she realized what exactly she said.

He looked surprised and slightly uncomfortable but Felicity wasn’t about to correct herself.

“It’s just breakfast,” Oliver said, breaking his gaze.

“The most important meal of the day, or so I’ve heard,” Felicity said, moving away to pull out two plates and an extra coffee cup for him. “It’s certainly the way to my heart.”

She couldn’t call the words back if she wanted to. It took a few moments and several mouthed curses for her to turn back to him with pink cheeks.

“Not that you’re trying to get to my heart. It’s just bagels. And you’re here to fix the lock on my window because you told me I’d be protected. Not exactly sure what that means but you don’t really give me straight answers about a lot of things so I think that it would be useless to ask. But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious because I am. I’m a generally curious person. Beyond curious. Mysteries bug me. I’m pretty sure I would have found out that you were the Hood even I hadn’t been kidnapped. Honestly I think I prefer my way to the Dark Archer's methods.”

“Felicity,” Oliver cut her off much to her relief. “Breathe.”

She took a deep breath, nodding as she made her way back to him.

“Coffee?” she said faintly.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the cup from her hands to fill it.

Felicity settled with keeping her hands busy and her mouth firmly shut, slathering cream cheese on a blueberry bagel before taking a bigger bite than necessary if only to keep herself quiet. She was halfway through it before Oliver interrupted her focused eating.

“Do you have a toolbox?” he asked.

“Laundry closet,” Felicity said, pointing him in the right direction.

As he walked out to grab it, she dropped her food and hurried back to her bedroom to make sure that there was nothing on the floor that would embarrass her even more. Luckily, she just managed to toss a lavender bra into her closet and slam the door shut before he appeared in the doorway.

“It won’t take me long,” Oliver assured her, walking to the window.

“Did you learn to fix window latches on the island?” Felicity asked, brushing a few flyaway strands of hair out of her face as she leaned back against her closet.

It was supposed to be a joking comment but she was already scolding herself for bringing _that_ particular subject up when he answered.

“Yes.”

Felicity’s eyes widened and she straightened up to ask if he was serious just before she caught sight of the amusement in his eyes. Oliver Queen just told a very small joke. A genuine quip that had nothing to do with his coffee shop being in a dangerous neighborhood. Felicity had the feeling that, other than Diggle, she was the only person who had seen him so close to the man he was behind the mask of either Oliver Queen or vigilante. The thought made a small smile tug at her lips.

“Can I ask you a question?” Felicity asked.

Oliver stiffened and she got the feeling that was the number one thing that he never wanted to hear from anyone. But his answering nod gave her the push that she needed to go on.

“Why the bow and arrow? It doesn’t seem like the most...efficient of weapons.”

“Because it looks utterly ridiculous?” Oliver asked, repeating her words.

Felicity bit down on her lower lip, waiting for his actual answer.

“It’s about honoring someone who was close to me,” he said, doing things with tools that she couldn’t see. “Two people, actually. They taught me a lot.”

“On the island?” Felicity asked.

He hesitated in his movements.

“I already figured out that you weren’t alone there. I mean who spends five years alone on a deserted island and comes back with a mission?”

The question was rhetorical but Felicity was still disappointed when he didn’t say anything else. Just as she turned to leave, he finally said something.

“Why do you call it a mission?”

She glanced over at him only to see that he’d stopped again and was watching her. This time it was her turn to vaguely avoid the question. Because she knew for a fact that he had some sort of list just like the one that Walter found and brought to her in the book with invisible ink.

“It just seems like you have some sort of rhyme or reason to what you do,” she said with a shrug before leaving him alone to work.

Once she finished off her bagel, she found herself in front of the computer to do some work for Queen Consolidated remotely. When she heard the door to her bedroom close about ten minutes later, she glanced over her shoulder to see Oliver coming out with her toolbox in hand.

“This is the first time those have been used, you know?” Felicity said, turning fully in her chair. “They’ve been gathering dust since I put them in there.”

Oliver didn’t look surprised as he opened her laundry closet to put them back.

“I’ll be around if you need someone to use them again,” he said.

“You will?” Felicity asked, her eyes widening slightly.

He glanced at her once he shut the door, something unrecognizable in his piercing look. It was almost like he _wanted_ to help her with such menial work. Like it wasn’t enough to just save her life. Felicity didn’t know quite what to make of that as she watched him approach. When his warm hand fell on her bare shoulder and squeezed it lightly, her breath caught in her throat and she looked up at him.

“Have a good day, Felicity,” Oliver said, sounding her name out slowly as if it was something precious.

“Bye,” she managed to say, her hands gripping the back of her chair as she watched him go.

Once she was alone with the door shut firmly behind him, Felicity took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She definitely needed to figure out what was going on here because the way that Oliver Queen fit his way into her house and her life so naturally wasn’t really supposed to happen.

* * *

A few days passed before she saw him again. Felicity was back at work and felt relieved when she got the call to come to the executive floor. Her coworkers had been fawning over her all morning, wanting to know every detail of her abduction and rescue. When she stepped off of the elevator, the sight of four suits, half a dozen police officers, and one very irate looking detective greeted her. Diggle was there as well, looking extremely out of place where he hovered close to the windows. Lance looked surprised to see her as she approached.

“Miss Smoak, glad to see you up and around,” he said somewhat genuinely, nodding at her.

“Thank you, Detective,” she said, staring around with confusion.

That was when she spotted Oliver in Walter’s office, a frown on his face as he stood with two older, self-important looking men all reading over some document. The call had to be a mistake. It didn’t really seem like they needed someone from IT. Just as she turned around to head back to the elevators, the office door opened behind her and Oliver called her name.

“I asked them to send you,” he said, weaving between the crowd to get to her.

“Really?” Felicity asked, glancing at the watchful gazes of those around them. “Why am I needed? Not that I am...needed. I just assumed that because I was sent up here to do a job, my job, that my presence is somewhat necessary.”

“I need you, Felicity,” Oliver said, ending her babbling.

She blinked at him several times, the words slowly processing in her usually quick mind.

“I imagined you saying that under very different circumstances,” she muttered when they finally set in.

The slight crease that formed between his eyebrows told her that the innuendo she let slip wasn’t as quiet as she hoped and Felicity had to deal with that humiliation as he led her into Walter’s office where Detective Lance was now waiting.

“You ready to let me do my job?” he asked, looking annoyed.

“Pardon me for wanting to make sure I understood every line of the warrant, Detective,” Oliver said.

“Didn’t need to call in half a dozen suits to help you understand, did you?”

Oliver’s mouth twitched but he didn’t reply, turning to Felicity.

“I need you to get into Walter’s computer. The SCPD thinks that there may be something on there that can help find him.”

“I told you, we got a computer guy of our own,” Lance said.

“Not one who knows QC’s system as well as Miss Smoak. She’ll get you into Walter’s files with zero damage to our network. If you can promise the same of your guy, I’ll let you use him. Otherwise, we can compromise and let her do the work that only she can do correctly,” Oliver said, standing his ground.

Felicity knew that she shouldn’t feel flattered over the fact that he was simply outlining her job description but it sounded somewhat like a compliment coming from him.

“Oliv -- Mr. Queen is right,” Felicity said, catching herself. “All executive level employees have the highest level of security that the IT department could give them. One wrong keystroke and your computer guy is going to wipe every file that is stored on that computer.”

Though Detective Lance didn’t miss her almost name slip, he nodded once and gestured to the computer. Felicity glanced at Oliver, waiting for his assent before she walked around the desk and sat down. Taking a deep breath, she popped one knuckle and winced at the pain that shot through her finger before sheepishly placing her hands on the keyboard. Five minutes quickly turned to ten and then twenty. By the time Walter’s home screen popped up, Felicity was beyond tired of having so many sets of eyes fixed on her.

As she stood up and nodded towards Lance, she inwardly prayed that Walter didn’t store anything about Tempest on his computer. The LLC might have been why he disappeared but she trusted that information in Oliver’s hands more than the police, if she was being honest. Felicity just had to find the right moment to tell him about what Walter was looking into before he vanished. When the police’s guy took her place at Walter’s desk, Felicity stepped away and waited to be dismissed by someone. Instead, she felt rather than saw Oliver step up beside her as they watched Lance and another detective lean over the desk to watch what their computer guy was doing.

“Do they think your stepfather is alive?” Felicity asked, looking up at him.

“I don’t know,” Oliver said, his voice holding a weight that didn’t settle well with her.

“Do you think he’s alive?”

His eyes flickered to her at the question and the answer she saw in them was not the one that she wanted. Felicity nodded once, ignoring the lump that formed in her throat as she clasped her hands tightly in front of her.

“You’ve been at my house for the past few nights, haven’t you?” she whispered, distracting herself from the very unwelcome news of Walter’s likely death.

Oliver didn’t answer for a long time before nodding his head once. Felicity felt the tightness in her chest easing up as she realized that she knew that without even asking. It was why she had felt somewhat safe, as opposed to the days after her abduction when she was jumping at shadows and small noises. Turning to walk out, she hesitated and glanced up at him.

“Come inside tonight. We need to talk.”

With that, she made her way towards the door. She expected to have one set of eyes on her as she did so. Oliver’s eyes affected her even when she wasn’t looking into them. But when she glanced around before leaving the office, she found Detective Lance watching her as well, a strange look on his face. It was clear that he’d seen the small exchange between her and Oliver. With a polite nod his way, Felicity made her way out as she prayed that he wouldn’t read too much into what he saw.

* * *

It probably wasn’t her best plan but Felicity decided to leave her fire escape window open as a clear invitation once the sun set. She was in her living room sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand as music floated out of the Bose speaker by her television. It wasn’t until she heard a quiet thump from her bedroom, a noise that she knew Oliver made for her benefit, that she turned the music down and turned her head to watch for him. Sure enough, he came around the corner in jeans and a grey t-shirt. Though simple, it was a good look on him and Felicity blamed her long, appreciative look on the fact that this was her third glass of wine. She needed some courage to bring up what she had planned to Starling City’s vigilante.

“Hi,” Felicity said, setting her wine down.

“You shouldn’t leave that open,” Oliver said in greeting, disapproval in his voice.

“Well I guess it’s lucky that the good archer came through it this time,” she said with a shrug.

He huffed, taking a seat on her armchair.

“What did you want to talk about?” Oliver asked.

The cold reminder took away a lot of the wine’s effects, leaving her with the bad kind of anticipation.

“I’ve been debating whether or not to share this with you but with what happened today…” she trailed off, shaking her head as she folded one leg beneath her. “I trust you, Oliver. I know that you probably think you don’t deserve it but I do. It’s hard not to trust the guy who quite literally crashes through a window to save you, you know?”

Oliver watched her, both listening to her words and waiting for her to get to the point of all of this.

“I have something to show you,” Felicity said.

She hesitated before slowly pulling the small notebook out from underneath the couch cushion where she’d hidden it. Oliver’s eyes flickered down to it and widened slightly before his gaze returned to normal. He definitely had a better poker face than she could ever achieve but it was proof enough for her that he recognized the book. As she held it out to him, he didn’t take it right away. When he finally stretched out to take it, Felicity watched his face for reactions. The only one she got was a tight press of his lips when he opened it and saw the names scrawled across each page.

“You’ve seen this before,” she said.

It wasn’t a question. Oliver thumbed through several pages before looking up at her.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“I’m a genius. That’s why you came to me in the first place, right?” Felicity asked, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

It didn’t work. Oliver had never looked more serious than he did in this moment.

“Every person that the Arrow has gone after can be crossed off this list with the exception of Derek Reston, and I think you were trying to help him more than you were trying to stop him. I think you have another copy of that notebook and that you’re using it to find your targets, or whatever you call them,” she said.

He inhaled deeply, looking visibly shaken for the first time since she’d met him.

“Where did you get it?” Oliver asked.

“From your stepfather,” Felicity said hesitantly.

He swallowed hard and nodded, closing the book.

“And where did he get it?”

He sounded as though he really didn’t want to know the answer to his own question but Felicity brought him here so that she could tell him. He deserved to know.

“He said that he found it in your house. That it...belongs to your mother,” Felicity said slowly, her own voice shaking as she spoke. “Walter thought she was hiding something. He wanted me to look into it but then he vanished. I think that list, wherever it’s from, might have cost Walter his life. And I think that you’re the only one who can figure out what it means.”

For the first time, Felicity didn’t have to search for what he was feeling. Confusion and hurt showed plainly on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she knew that her words really didn’t do any good.

Oliver didn’t say anything, closing the book with a heavy sigh.

“Does anyone else know?” he asked.

“Only me,” Felicity said with a shake of her head. “And...well, Walter. I don’t think he told anyone else but I can’t know that for sure.”

He nodded slowly, a thousand-yard-stare in his eyes. Then he was pushing himself up to stand. Felicity felt a jolt in her chest when she realized that he was about to leave.

“Oliver,” she said, stopping him in the doorway.

He turned his head towards her with a weary look on his face.

“You don’t have to be alone with this,” Felicity said, standing up to cross the room to him.

She was of statistically average height but without heels on to compensate for his taller form, she found herself tilting her head back a little further than usual.

“I’m going to order some takeout,” she said, reaching out to pry the notebook from his firm grip. “Eat some dinner with me and I’ll tell you what else I found out for Walter. It’s not much but it may help you.”

Several long moments passed as she waited for his response. Instead of simply walking away or responding with nothing but a nod, she received a verbal reply.

“Okay,” Oliver assented, his voice quiet.

She felt relieved, for some odd reason, and squeezed his arm lightly before making her way into the kitchen where she stored her to-go menus. Once she found them, she turned only to see Oliver already standing by the table. Behind the shock and anger in his eyes, she could see the slightest hint of gratitude. It was enough to bring a smile to her face as she asked whether he wanted Italian or Chinese.

* * *

Oliver Queen in her apartment became a surprisingly common fixture in her life. Since he was still healing from his fight with the Dark Archer, his nightly activities were severely limited. Some evenings he found something else to fix in her apartment, so long as it didn’t bother his ribs. Other times he sat on her couch watching some of her favorite movies with a devoted interest that she didn’t expect. It was easy to forget that he’d been marooned for five years, especially since he was remarkably well adjusted for a castaway. When she came in from a grocery store one day to find him replacing the clock on her wall that had been stuck on the wrong time ever since Daylight Savings, Felicity protested at the sight of him only to realize that he had more range of motion than he had a few days ago.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” she said, setting down the grocery bag.

“Well I didn’t blackout that time so…” Oliver cut off with a wince as he backed away.

Felicity huffed, shaking her head as she put away the food. When he joined her, grabbing the ice cream to stow it in the freezer, she gave him a long look. She should have known better. When she let herself look at him, that led to certain thoughts. And when she had those thoughts, they generally led to the absolutely obliteration of her filter. Sure enough, when she saw him wince again, her lips formed words that she couldn’t stop in time.

“Take off your shirt.”

Oliver looked at her with wide eyes as he closed the freezer.

“What?” he asked, unaware of how many curse words flashed through Felicity’s mind in the few seconds between her command and his response.

“I should look at your bruises, make sure nothing is going wrong,” she said with a grimace, well aware that it was a weak argument.

“I’m fine,” Oliver said.

“Humor me,” Felicity told him, unable to convince herself to let this go. “Or I’ll call Diggle and make him take you to the hospital.”

He looked at her with a frown.

“Since when do you have his number?” Oliver asked.

Felicity simply flashed him a smile before closing her pantry.

“How do you want to do this?” she asked.

With a heavy sigh, he began unbuttoning his shirt. Felicity’s brain short-circuited as she realized just what she’d asked him to do. Instead of just abs, which she was thrilled to see, Felicity’s eyes fell on mottled bruises in various shades that decorated the skin over his ribs. They looked like they were healing, which was good news, but she could still just imagine the pain that he must have been in ever since receiving them. Then there was the pneumothorax that Diggle told her about. She’d never had a collapsed lung herself but Felicity knew that he had to be experiencing a certain level of discomfort as a result of it.

It was only when she reached out with a concerned look that she noticed the scars. They littered his skin, looking out of place on the billionaire’s body but more than fitting for that of a vigilante. They had to come from his time away, as many looked older. Felicity wasn’t an expert in scars but she had the feeling that none of them came from animals. Seeing one sliver of what life had thrown at him only caused Felicity to understand him a little more. As she looked up at him, she saw that he was staring down at her with a cautious look.

“I understand,” Felicity said.

The words rang truer than she could really describe. When Oliver tilted his head to the side questioningly, she dropped her eyes and brushed her fingers lightly over a scar on his stomach.

“You don’t talk about those five years. Looking at what happened to you, I understand why,” Felicity said.

From what she heard in a few brief conversations with Diggle, his family didn’t understand. They expected him to be the boy from before, failing to see the man that Oliver was now. It would have made her want to scream, so how Oliver handled it without falling apart, she’d never know. Looking up at him again, she pressed her hand flat against his chest. Her breath hitched at the shudder that went through his body.

“Do you know why I want to help you?” Felicity asked.

Oliver didn’t say anything. He knew that it wasn’t a real question.

“That day in the warehouse, when you realized that I knew who you were and you looked at me, I saw something in your eyes,” she said, holding his gaze without faltering. “I saw, I _see_ , good in you, Oliver.”

She could see in his eyes that he wanted to scoff and dismiss her words but he didn’t do either. He just stared at her as if she was some mystery that he couldn’t quite unravel. She definitely knew the feeling.

“I think that part of you gets lost sometimes. I think that you try to keep up with the life that everyone demands of you and this crusade that you demand of yourself. I think that finding a balance between the two is what you need more than anything. I didn’t know you before the five years that you were away. I don’t see you the way your family does. I don’t size you up like Diggle does. When I look at you, I see a person. I think that you need someone around to remind you that no matter what you or anyone else tries to label you as, you’re still just human. And you are good, Oliver Queen. That is why I won’t take no for an answer.”

He looked confused, uncertain, hopeful, and scared all at once. Felicity didn’t dare to tear her gaze away from him for one second. This all started the day that he walked into her cubicle and she made contact those bright blue eyes. They’d shielded so much then and she knew that it was a privilege to see past his mask here and now.

“Diggle told me that you might be resistant to putting on the hood again when you’re healed,” Felicity said, broaching the topic warily.

Oliver blinked and looked away from her, his jaw clenching slightly.

“You think you failed but you didn’t,” she insisted, reaching up to bring his eyes back down to her.

Her hand cupped his jaw gently and he didn’t put up any fight at the light touch.

“I’m alive because of you. Countless people are alive...all because of you,” Felicity said, determined to make him hear this. “The city needs you, Oliver. It needs the Hood. And if you don’t think that you can keep doing things the way you’ve been doing them, then change it. Stop killing people, for one. Not because they deserve to live but because of that good heart of yours. Do better for yourself.”

Oliver stared at her as if he couldn’t quite fathom that she was real. Felicity was tempted to tell him that the feeling was mutual. When his hand lifted and touched her cheek lightly, his thumb brushing over the nearly faded bruise there, she tilted her head into the touch without thinking. They both stilled, watching the other for any sign of hesitation. Then Oliver leaned just a little bit closer and Felicity started to push up on her toes. A piercing ring filled the room, causing them to jump apart like they were teenagers caught by an angry parent. Oliver sighed out his sister’s name and an apology, glancing at her before answering his phone.

“Is everything okay?” he asked first.

Felicity turned away, pressing her hand over her racing heart as she barely paid attention to the one side of the conversation she could hear.

“I’ll be there soon,” Oliver finally said.

As soon as he hung up, Felicity turned to look at him.

“It’s my mom,” he said, an apologetic look on his face as he quickly buttoned up his shirt. “The insurance company is hounding her and she doesn’t want to handle it.”

“Go to her,” Felicity nodded.

She might have been suspicious of Moira Queen but it was clear that the woman loved her husband and Felicity couldn’t resent her for that. Oliver hesitated as he pulled his jacket off of the stand by her door. There was a tenderness in his eyes that caught her off guard. Felicity managed a smile, waving goodbye weakly. Once he was gone, she found her way to a chair and sat down weakly, running her fingers through her ponytail.

“What the hell am I doing?” she whispered to herself.

There was no clear answer. All that Felicity knew was that she definitely had feelings for Oliver Queen, former billionaire playboy, current Starling City vigilante. She was so screwed.

* * *

When Felicity woke to the feeling of someone stroking her hair, still damp from her shower, she gasped and sat up, flailing for just a moment until two familiar hands on her shoulders instantly calmed her.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said as she took several deep breaths to calm down. “You left your window open again.”

“I knew you’d come,” Felicity said, reaching up to squeeze his hand.

She hadn’t seen him since their conversation in her kitchen a few days ago. Truth be told, she was playing with fire since she had left her window open every night since. The Dark Archer was still out there somewhere and part of her felt foolish for not taking advantage of the new lock. The other part of her knew that Oliver was out there and that he’d come in when he was ready. She’d dropped some heavy stuff on him and he deserved the chance to think it through.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, squinting up at him.

Oliver didn’t reply, moving out of sight for just a moment. When he shifted back towards her, she remained perfectly still as he placed her glasses on her face carefully.

“No new sightings of the Dark Archer,” he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “And no news on Walter either.”

Though those subjects were important, they weren’t quite what Felicity was asking for.

“Are you okay?” she specified.

Oliver didn’t answer, instead tracing her jawline with his thumb. It was strange, realizing how touch-centered he seemed to be. It was out of place for the image of the Hood that she formerly had in her head. Felicity briefly wondered if it was part of Oliver’s personality or something that developed during his five years as a castaway. Either way, she couldn’t help but appreciate it. Especially when his other hand lifted to play with the thin strap of her camisole.

“Oliver,” Felicity said.

As much as she was enjoying his touch, she needed him to answer her question.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he admitted, his hand moving to cup the back of her head. “I don’t see myself...like that. For years I’ve been doing what it takes to survive. Who I had to be, in my mind, wasn’t a good person. In many ways, I’m still on that island. I’m still that person.”

Felicity nodded, understanding every word.

“But I think you’re right,” Oliver said, brushing his thumb over her temple. “I need you. I don’t really know when it happened. Maybe it was the first time I walked into your office and you were chewing on that red pen. But I do.”

The words went far deeper and held a lot more meaning than the last time that he said them. She nearly laughed at the mention of the red pen that she’d had in her mouth, a detail that she lamented later on when she recounted parts of her meeting with the famous Oliver Queen over margaritas with her friend. Felicity reached up, carefully cupping his cheek in her much smaller hand.

“I’m here,” she murmured.

Oliver nodded, leaning his head into her touch.

“I want you on the team. It’s not much of a team right now but...I think that three of us can make it work,” he said.

Felicity breathed a sigh of relief, scooting closer to him.

“As long as we figure out what happened to Walter,” she said conditionally. “Alive or dead, preferably alive, we need to do this. He deserves that much.”

“I agree,” Oliver said.

She leaned in, touching her forehead lightly to his.

“Does this mean I get a cool nickname like the Hood?”

Oliver groaned, his hand slipping beneath her camisole to trace patterns along her spine.

“I hate that name,” he grumbled.

Felicity let out a laugh that was quickly silenced by his lips on hers. It was a light kiss, no more than a peck, before he pulled away again.

“I’m not sure how to find the balance yet,” he said, almost sounding as though he was warning her. “I’m willing to try.”

“And you won’t be alone,” she promised him, holding his gaze to make sure that he knew she was serious.

Oliver smiled, the first real smile she’d seen from him. Not a fake one for the benefit of those around him or a bitter one at the circumstances he was in. But a true, warm, bright smile.

“I still like the cupcakes,” he said seriously as his hand went to her hip and squeezed lightly.

“Shut up,” Felicity laughed.

And he did, leaning in to kiss her once more.

* * *

It wasn’t until a week later that Oliver decided to start training again. When he told her to meet him at the site of his still unopened club, Felicity couldn’t help but feel confused. That was until he met her at the door and led her to a door with his fingers interlaced with hers. Felicity followed the fingers of his free hand as he typed out a code to unlock the door. It was increasingly obvious what this was and she felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of seeing his secret lair. Once they descended the steps, she was only slightly disappointed when she spotted the state of his computers. Even Diggle leaning against one of the tables wasn’t enough to distract her.

“Oh you poor things,” Felicity said, breaking away from Oliver to stare at the computers in horror. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you all fixed up.”

“I guess that means she’s in,” Diggle said, sounding amused.

She turned to face them, unashamed of her reaction.

“That’s up to her,” Oliver said, clearly humored.

She leaned into him without hesitation when his arm slid around her waist. If Diggle was surprised by the development, his face didn’t betray it.

“Do you even have to ask?” Felicity said, looking up at him.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Where do we start?” she asked when he pulled away.

“Oliver needs to get back up to fighting weight,” Diggle said.

Oliver nodded in agreement, pulling away from her. Felicity glanced around, noticing the workout equipment that took up a fair amount of space. As the two men made their way onto the mats, Oliver stripped off his t-shirt and Felicity felt a rush of desire that she carefully hid by ducking her head.

“I guess that leaves me with you,” she said to the computers that needed a serious overhaul.

A thousand ideas started running through her mind as she sat down in the rolling chair that was now officially hers. It felt right. Felicity knew that this was where she belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think!
> 
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